


The Pact (To Live, Love Or Die)

by refugeofthemind



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Homophobia, Humour, Infedility, M/M, Mention Of Homophobia, Mention of suicide attempts, Poor Dean, Romance, Suicidal though, asshole Sam, cheating lisa, h/c
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:05:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/refugeofthemind/pseuds/refugeofthemind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's life is falling apart and it's when he decides to end it all that he meets a stranger at the bridge who seems to be in the same boat as him. They later form a strange pact that promises their deaths in two months. But until then, they've chosen to live life to the fullest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Castiel doesn't normally watch TV so when he does, he remembers every second of it. He remembers his very first cartoon, his first sitcom and his first ever slasher movie. He remembers having to watch a chick-flick once because Anna had insisted he watched it with her and who was he to refuse his sister? The movie was mostly boring, with too much drama and crying. It was about an orphan girl who had woven big dreams and eventually had them come true.

At the end of the movie, Castiel remembers the saying "You're not an orphan if you have people that love you."

At age 8, that troubled him a lot. Castiel was no orphan. He had a family; a father, brothers and sister. Then why did he feel like one?

Even now, 24 years later, Castiel is haunted by that single quote. It mocks him every morning that he wakes up, has been mocking him since he left his brothers.

* * *

_"Castiel!" Raphael shouted. "You don't know what you're doing!"_

_"I do," he whispered back,his left cheek pounding where he had been punched._

_"Brother, if you walk out that door, you can never come back," Uriel spat. "Do you understand? You will no longer be part of this family."_

_Family._

_Castiel straightened his back. He looked around, eyes sweeping over the office. He straightened his back and gave a firm nod. Without a glance back, Castiel simply walked out._

* * *

It wasn't an easy decision to make. Following his brothers, heeding their orders was all he had ever known to do. It was ingrained in his DNA. Yet, when he had left them, he had felt something. Not nostalgia nor regret, more like a sense of satisfaction. It was what convinced him that he was doing the right thing by leaving.

He know knows how foolish he was, that it was just his pride and stubbornness talking.

* * *

_"The confirmation e-mail came from the coroner's this morning. He really is dead." Raphael said over the phone. His cold voice made Castiel shiver and he had to bite his lips to keep them from letting out an uncontrolled sob._

_"This changes nothing. You are still never to show your face ever again."_

_The line went dead._

* * *

It is a windy night. The streets are busy with cars, roads blocked by traffic. Castiel's world is falling apart but people don't know that. They continue on their journey home, not taking notice of the man in the tan trench coat who has a look of pure devastation across his face. Castiel is exhausted and cold. He is standing at the edge of Stull Bridge. There are less people here, just a bunch of homeless people drinking their problems away. The wind from the vast river below him blows mercilessly. He wraps his coat tighter around him, and then laughs bitterly to himself. Here he was; ready to jump to his death and Castiel was bothered by the cold!

Castiel inches forward. He has already climbed over the ledge and is now only a few centimeters away from falling off the edge. The waves below are crashing together loudly and Castiel wonders if his death would be immediate.

"Need a push?"

Castiel startles and almost slips off the bridge. He clings onto the ledge on reflex and his heart beats even faster than before.

"Wh-what?" he whispers to himself. The man sitting a few feet away, whom he initially thought was just another homeless man, flings his legs from over the ledge and stands up beside him. He was in the shadows at first but now he stands closer and the light from the nearby street lamps fall on his face. Castiel gasps softly because he thinks for a moment that seconds before jumping to his death, he is meeting an angel. The man standing in front of him is beautiful, bathed in a pearly white glow. He has features that look like they've been carved out of stone and his green eyes sparkles even from the distance. He looks at Castiel and smirks, but the slight swaying if his body and the almost empty bottle in his hands tells him that the man's drunk.

"I could push you if you want," he slurs a little. "You look like you need it."

Castiel is too speechless to come up with a reply. His grip on the railings tightens as a sudden fear of the man and his words creep up to him. The man simply shrugs at the lack of response and then to Castiel's surprise, steps closer to the edge, feet peeking over the slab of cement.

"Suit yourself, man. You could just watch first." He watches wordlessly as the man before him leans back and prepares to launch himself into the deep waters below. He doesn't know why but Castiel is so tempted to reach out and simply stop him from doing so. But before Castiel is able to cry out, the two of them are suddenly drenched in bright white light.

"Alright, break it up, the two of you!" a policeman shouts from afar, waving his torchlight at them. "Nobody's jumping off that bridge tonight," he warns in a threatening voice.

With shaking hands, Castiel hauls himself up and lands rather clumsily onto the other side of the bridge. He stumbles for a moment but feels strong hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He shivers at the touch.

"Well, see you around, or not, I suppose," the man chuckles bitterly. Castiel nods silently and before he knows it the man is turning around and walking away.

* * *

Castiel is still trembling slightly as he still feels the ghost of the touch on his shoulders and the warm breath that skittered across his face when the man had laughed. Those green eyes seemed to be gazing back at him each time he blinks. The whole encounter with him makes Castiel momentarily forget about his misery and the reason why he had been at the bridge in the first place. Which is why, just when Castiel isn't ready for it, a car speeding on the highway swerves and hits him. Castiel is thinking about the irony of it all as he flies a few feet and crashes onto the ground. He is still thinking when the darkness envelopes him and the throbbing in head increases in intensity.


	2. To Live

The next time Castiel opens his eyes, he is disappointed to see that he isn't in fact dead. He is, however, on a hospital bed with a drip attached to his wrists. He is not too badly hurt, just sore in a few places but still, his head hurts, just thinking about the bill he is running up. He has no means of paying, his brothers had after all, cut him off and his joint bank accounts are all frozen. That was just another way for them to teach him a lesson. Since he doesn't seem to need any more attention, Castiel decides that it is time he escapes from here. He knows that running off without paying his bill is probably illegal but it has been long since he cares about this kind of stuff. So he rips off the drip and steals some hospital scrubs. He then slowly makes his way out through the back, certain that nobody has seen him.

Just when thinks that he has made it, he crashes into somebody and he flinches as his sore muscles scream in pain.

"You again?"

Castiel definitely recognizes that voice and he immediately looks up, shocked to see the man from last night.

"Ah, shit. Those nurses are looking our way. Run!"

Castiel follows the instructions thrown at him, running behind the man. They manage to make it far away from the hospital when they slow down to catch their breath.

"I'm Dean, by the way," the man pants out.

Castiel nods and says, "My name is Castiel, Castiel Novak."

Dean rolls his name on his tongue, "Castiel? That's a weird name. Can't I just call you Cas?"

Castiel stiffens at that, it is what his father used to call him. "No you may not," he bites out sharply.

Dean simply smirks at that and says, " Okay, sheesh, whatever. Anyway what happened to you? It looks like you've just been run over by a truck."

Castiel nods in reply and tells him that it wasn't a truck, just a really fast car. Dean raises his eyebrows at that. Then Castiel points his head to the hospital tag around his wrist and asks him why he was at the hospital. Dean smiles humorlessly and says, "Yeah, well I tried jumping again, but I slipped and hit my head. Stupid, I know. It seems that the universe is just fucking with us. It just doesn't seem to let us die."

Castiel shivers a little at the way Dean's voice goes dark and emotionless. Dean notices it but thinks its because he's cold.

"Those flimsy scrubs aren't doing much to protect you against the cold are they?" then he hesitates before saying, "My apartment is just a block away, want to come over for some hot coffee?"

Castiel thinks it's strange that a man would invite a complete stranger for coffee for no apparent reason but he cannot hide his gratitude for such an offer. He gives a tentative nod, which makes Dean grin.

He follows after Dean who leads him to a flat not far away. He is surprised when Dean doesn't go in through the entrance but instead finds himself at the alley behind. His hackles rise a little; he thinks that maybe he shouldn't have accepted the offer after all. But Dean takes one look at his tense shoulders and laughs in a way, which seems friendly.

He then pulls down the fire escape ladder and point to it. "I never have my keys with me," he explains. "This way is easier anyway."

Castiel glances at the rusty ladder that creaks and groans and he doubts that. Still he grips tight onto the railing and climbs up, with Dean close behind.

"Anyone tell you you've got a nice ass?" Dean calls out cheekily. Castiel blushes at that, remembering how thin the hospital clothes are.

"I'm really loving the view from here," he continues to tease him.

They finally reach the tenth floor and Dean pushes open the window with a grunt. He then crawls in. Castiel follows after, but at the last minute stumbles and almost falls flat on his face. Dean holds him strongly by his arms until he is steady on his feet again, but still Castiel wishes that Dean won't stop touching him.

"This way doesn't seem safe at all," Castiel mutters.

Dean hears him and shrugs. "It's not like I have anything worth stealing here anyway."

Castiel takes a look around the apartment. It is messy, with clothes strewn all over the place. There are no photographs, except one. It has a couple in it with two little boys hanging from their father's shoulders. Castiel thinks the older boy looks like Dean, with the same green eyes and a smattering of freckles all over his cheeks.

"Here, Cas."

"Its Castiel," Castiel takes the mug of coffee from Dean's hands and relishes the taste as he sips. It has been almost two days since he had a proper meal and the bitter coffee seem to reawaken his taste buds.

He looks up to see Dean looking at him strangely and he blushes.

"Not to pry or anything," Dean hesitates, "but back at the bridge, was that... The first time you tried something like that?"

Castiel shakes his head but doesn't want to elaborate. Subconsciously, he wraps his palms around his arms so that it covers the marks on his wrists. Dean notices but doesn't say anything. Instead, he laughs bitterly and nods to himself. "It seems that no matter how hard we try, life just won't quit huh? It's as though..." he trails off and shakes his head even more. "It's like we're not supposed to die, like we've still got something holding us back here."

Castiel doesn't know what to say so he just nods. "I agree."

Dean stares into Castiel's eyes deeply. "Do you?" he asks softly.

Castiel is slightly thrown off by Dean's sudden change in tone and he shrugs. "I do not believe in fate or destiny, but I suppose that such a thing is possible," he elaborates.

Suddenly, Dean is much closer to him and although he should, Castiel does not feel uncomfortable. "I don't believe in hoodoo stuff like that either. But there is something stopping us." Dean's eyes are lit up dangerously and they start to shift. "Don't you want to find out?"

Castiel is curious, so he asks, "What do you propose exactly?"

"Another attempt," Dean states simply. At Castiel's confused expression, he goes on to explain. "We'll go swinging at death again, and if we die, then hey, mission accomplished. But if we don't, we'll know we have something more to do yet."

The plan is ridiculous, yet Castiel finds himself thinking about it. He begins to understand that Dean is a troubled soul and that he must have gone through something awful to become so bitter. He thinks that maybe Dean's plan isn't so bad, a way to test fate. Castiel has also gone through many trials in these few months and he supposes that it would be assuring to know that maybe he still has something better to look foreword to. The worst-case scenario he manages to come up with is actually succeeding in dying and since that's what his original plan was in the beginning, it doesn't sound too bad.

Against his better judgment, Castiel nods a soft yes.

They decide to keep things simple and just take an overdose of pills but they find out that the dosage Dean has is only enough to be fatal for just one person. They then get a little creative and turn up the gas stove. The two of then wait a while, and after a few minutes has passed by, they take out a lighter. The lighter is faulty and doesn't light up so they decide on matches. Holding their breaths and nodding solemnly to each other, they close their eyes as Dean's fingers strike the matchstick against the box. Castiel waits, and then waits a while longer. When no explosion happens, no burst of fiery heat, when not even a loud bang is heard, both open their eyes to see just a small flame dancing at the end of the matchstick. They look at each yet and immediately jump up in search of paper, or anything that could help spread the fire. It is when Dean is cursing furiously and fiddling with the knobs of the stove when Castiel eyes the price of paper that he finds on the counter.

"Dean, what's this?" he asks as he shows it to him. "It's says here that you haven't paid the bill for a month, so they've cut off your gas supply."

Dean's eyes widen and he flushes. "Well, its not like I cook much, so how was I supposed to know?" he huffs out.

Castiel doesn't say anything, but Dean snaps at him to stop staring and so he does. "Any more ideas?" Castiel asks.

Dean nods and says "one more."

He reaches into his kitchen cabinets and pulls out a box of plastic cling wrap. "Asphyxiation," he explains. He pulls out one end of the plastic and holds it up in front of Castiel's face. "If this doesn't work, we'll know for sure that maybe there is something that we haven't done yet."

Castiel looks at him and agrees. He feels the smooth fingertips touch his face before the clear plastic is slowly wrapped around his head, inch by inch. It is a very slow process and he taps his foot impatiently. Dean notices and snaps, "Hey, I'm going as fast as I can, it's not my fault your face is so long!"

Castiel almost let's out a snort of amusement but it is at that time that he finally feels the weight of the cling wrap pressing against his nose and mouth. He can't breathe anymore and slowly, he feels the oxygen being cut off and his lungs have begun to strain for more air. He doesn't have much time left so he quickly grabs the box from Dean's hands and starts on him. He has gone almost an inch down Dean's face when the last of the cling wrap is used. The both of them look at the empty roll in horror and then at each other. Within seconds, he can feel frantic fingers scraping against the layer of plastic around his face. Finally, the seal is broken and he finds himself taking in huge gulps of air.

"You're not dying and leaving me alive to face murder charges, you hear me?" Dean growls at him. But all Castiel can do is stare at him because they're both not dead. Despite their numerous attempts, they are still breathing. Castiel finally thinks that maybe Dean has a point.

He looks at Dean and asks slowly, "What should we do now?"

Dean looks down and nervously fidgets. "This sounds silly, and I don't know about you, but I've got a bunch of things that I want to do before I die, you know?"

"You mean like a bucket list?"

"Exactly. And I'd really like to do those stuff but it would kinda suck doing it alone..."

Castiel suddenly understands where the conversation is going and maybe it's because they've almost died together and he feels that they share something now, that he says, "Okay."

Dean seems taken aback. "Are you serious?"

Castiel thinks about Anna and nods firmly, with his mind made up.

"December 31st, new years eve. That gives us about two months. And when we're finally certain that we've done everything that we possibly can, we'll go back to that bridge to finish the job." Dean stares at Castiel. "Deal?"

Castiel doesn't know what he's getting himself into but still, he shakes Dean's hand and as he does, he feels a thrill going down his spine. He's never done anything this spontaneous before and he supposes that he'll finally do something insane right before he dies.

He reckons its fitting.


	3. The First Wish

Castiel leaves Dean's apartment that night through the door, with an agreement to meet the next day at Dean's place. His mind is still reeling from the strange deal he has made that morning. He thinks that maybe it isn't such a good idea. After all, he hardly knows Dean and now it seems that they have made a pact to die together. Castiel finds that his life no longer makes sense.

But still, even as he walks away from the block of flats, all he can think about is the way Dean's eyes light up as he laughs and how the freckles on his face leaves a nice contrast on his skin. Castiel is glad that he gets to spend two months with that man before he leaves this world. And maybe with the extra time, he can finally muster the courage to visit his sister.

Castiel keeps walking as his thoughts fly all over the place. He finds a nice park bench that is far away from the playground and the screaming children. It faces the pond and Castiel likes the view. He decides that he will come back to this place again, maybe the next day.

The night at the hospital has taken some of the exhaustion away but he still aches in some places. He hasn't slept in days and hasn't had a proper bed to lie in for almost a week. He had been evicted from the apartment he had recently rented. He knows that his brothers are behind it. Now, Castiel is lucky if he manages to find a peaceful corner to just close his eyes and relax.

Castiel spends most of the afternoon walking around the streets, looking for a job, but nobody seems to be hiring. His stomach is rumbling again, the coffee from this morning having already left his system. He kind of wishes he never drank it because now that his stomach knows what it's like to have food in it, it wants more.

The sun sets and in no time, it is evening again. Castiel is still starving but he ignores it instead he starts looking for a place to sleep. He can't go back to the park; the police had caught him once. He decides that he will at the bridge near the subway. It's not very safe there but well, beggars can't be choosers.

There aren't many people there tonight, just small pockets homeless people, very much like himself, seated at the aisle. Some of them are already sleeping. Castiel makes his way around, trying to be as invisible as possible but still his hospital scrubs draws some attention. He finally chooses a rather secluded spot and is making himself comfortable when large shadows loom up against him.

Castiel looks up from where he is sitting and his hearts sinks when there, in front of him stands a group of about five men. They are well built and towering above him. From where he sits, Castiel can smell the waft of stale whisky emanating from them. The smell is very strong and from the way the men seem to sway a little at their feet, Castiel can tell that they are drunk. This makes them a more dangerous threat. In the few days that he has been wondering around the streets, Castiel had met many like them. Drunkards who seem to think that a drop of alcohol would give them a reason to act like barbarians.

"Hey you," the man at the front shouts. Castiel tries not to make eye contact but lifts up his chin to show that he has heard the man. "Yer takin my spot!"

Castiel quickly gets up and apologizes but the man shakes his head, "That's no use, yer stinkin smell's ruin'd the place."

Castiel stops himself from pointing out the fact that the men smell worse. Instead, he decides to ignore them and walk away. But all hopes of not starting a fight are dashed when he feels a beefy hand grab his shoulder and turns him sharply around. Before he can even get a word out, a hard punch is thrown at his face and he stumbles backward.

Contrary to his appearance, Castiel is strong and is usually able to take on men two times his size. But this time, he is unfairly outnumbered and hasn't eaten in days so he uses most of his strength to deflect the blows that keep coming. A punch to gut leaves him breathless and now, all he can do is try to breathe in and out as the hits continue.

Castiel cries out in pain when one of them hits his head against a brick wall and that is when he realizes that he isn't at the bridge anymore. They've dragged him to the roadside. His head is spinning and his chest hurts every time he takes in harsh jagged breathes. Finally, the beatings have subsided and just when he feels that he's safe, rough hands grab a hold of him and toss him to the side, onto the path of oncoming traffic.

For the second night in a row, Castiel sees the headlights of an oncoming car speed nearer to him. His entire body is hurting too badly and he can't move his arms and legs. He tries to summon the energy to get away but all it does is drain him of it and Castiel finds himself closing his eyes and drifting away. _Maybe, he won't have to wait two months after all..._

However, he hears the car screeching to a stop just a few inches away. He also hears the familiar voice of a man shout in concern and then he feels his whole body being lifted up from the ground.

The sudden change in position makes him groan out in pain and he tries to swat the hands that are examining his wounds.

"Are you okay? Open your eyes! Dammit, Cas!"

Castiel is too exhausted to tell the man that it's Castiel. Instead, he once again finds himself drifting off to unconsciousness.

Castiel's mind is a throbbing mess for the next few hours. He remembers waking up a few times and each time, his head gets clearer. Once, he even manages to make up the image of a man with emerald green eyes but he isn't sure if that's just his dream. However, he is certain that there is someone there beside him because he feels the skimming of fingers against his broken skin and bruises and his wounds can't just magically wash themselves.

Castiel slowly lifts his head up a little but then he is gently pushed down with a hand on his chest.

"Easy, there." Castiel is surprised to see Dean hovering around him, with lines of worry etched on his face.

"What happened?" he manages to croak out.

Dean's eyes darken a little. "I thought we made a deal," he says bitterly. "So you wanna explain to me why I almost ran over you while you were lying on the road, almost beaten to a pulp?"

Castiel is a little puzzled at the angry worry that Dean is expressing. Why did he care so much? After all, Castiel is simply a stranger to him, someone he'd made a rather odd pact with. _That's it, the pact_ , Castiel reasons with himself. Dean is probably upset that Castiel had gone back on his word.

"I assure you, I did not plan on straying away from our deal. It was just an unfortunate turn of events," Castiel winces. At the pointed look that Dean gives him, he goes on to explain. "I crossed paths with a group of men who were drunk and were trying to... Demonstrate their strength."

"Dammit, Castiel!" Castiel startles at the way Dean jumps up in anger. "Those assholes, why didn't you fight back?"

Castiel rolls his eyes. "I did, there was just too many of them."

Dean huffs and runs his fingers though his hair in frustration. "You seriously need to take some self-defense lessons."

"Excuse me?" Castiel exclaims incredulously. He is annoyed at the way Dean is treating him, as though he is useless and pathetic. "Look, mister-" he says, lifting the sheets off of him, scrambling to get out of bed when his chest twinges in pain. He places his hands on his ribs, breathing slowly.

"Here," Dean hands him an ice pack and some pain-killers. Although Castiel is grateful, he still continues glaring at Dean.

"Yeah, you're welcome by the way, for driving you to the hospital, then back to my apartment and standing watch over you for two whole days," Dean snaps back, sarcastically.

At his words, Castiel blinks in surprise. He is almost touched at how much the man has done for him and lowers his eyes in shame. "Thank you, and I apologize for the trouble."

Dean shakes his head vigorously and places a comforting hand on his shoulders. "Hey, it's nothing. Besides, we're sort of friends right? It's the least I can do."

Castiel doesn't know if he's going to explode at the sheer thrill that those hands touching him brings or if he wants to hide away at the amount of sincerity that those words convey. He opts to blush instead and looks down at his hands.

Dean clears his throat, as though embarrassed by the tender moment they have just shared. "Alright, time for breakfast!" he exclaims, clapping his hands together. "That diner two blocks down serves really good pancakes. We'll eat there and then I'll drop you off at your place... which is where exactly?"

Castiel doesn't reply but twiddles is fingers nervously, "You don't have to drive me there. I could just walk."

"No can do. I'm not gonna allow that after the hit you've just taken. Besides, it's no trouble for me at all."

"Dean," Castiel stands up in frustration but Dean seems rooted at his spot, arms crossed in a stubborn gesture.

"There's no, you can't," he stutters, twitching and fidgeting. "I don't have a place," he manages to confess. "I'm homeless."

"What?" Dean exclaims. "Why didn't you mention that before? So, what? You're planning on sleeping in the streets for the next few days? Do you have any idea how dangerous the streets of New York are? I mean, look at you! I can't let you do that, no way. You're staying here for the next two months."

Castiel begins to protest but Dean shuts him up by throwing a pair of pants and a shirt at him. "Change, it's time to eat some pancakes."

They walk together to the diner nearby with Castiel in Dean's clothes. They're not of the same size; Castiel being a little shorter than the other man and not as well-built so the shirt hangs off of his small frame. But Castiel isn't complaining. It isn't just that he's finally had a warm shower and clean clothes after almost three days. It's also because these clothes smell distinctly of Dean, of his cologne and a particular scent that he can't distinguish. So he tightens the borrowed jacket around him even closer and breathes in deeply, unable to get enough of that smell.

The diner is quite empty, save for a family sitting up front. Yet the two of them, by some unspoken agreement choose a booth all the way at the corner, where it is quiet. Once they are seated, a smiling blonde waitress walks up to them with a notepad in one hand. "What can I get you today, Dean?" she asks in a high-pitched voice, giggling slightly.

Castiel is not surprised to find out that he isn't the only one who is affected by how good Dean looks. He knows that Dean is attractive and he also has an easy-going aura around him that radiates confidence. Castiel just sits there quietly while Dean flirts back with the waitress. Listening in on their conversation, Castiel finds it evident that Dean is a regular at the diner and that the waitress knows him quite well. Castiel can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy but he suppresses it promptly. He is surprised at where that comes from.

Finally, Dean has ordered his food and the waitress turns to him. Castiel has showered and put in new clothes but maybe it's because he still looks tired, or perhaps it's the way his skin is slightly sallow and his eyes ate sunken, but the smile on the waitress falters. "Hey, I think I've seen you on the streets!" she exclaims, loud enough for the family to hear her. She then turns to Dean and says, "How sweet of you Dean, I didn't know you were taking in strays."

The moment those words leave her mouth, it's obvious that it's the wrong thing to say. The whole atmosphere suddenly turns ice cold and Castiel blushes deeply. Instead of being flattered, Dean clenches his jaw tightly and snaps, "He's a _friend_."

"Yes, of course," the lady corrects herself before taking Castiel's order of coffee and eggs and bacon. She then quickly scurries off to the kitchen.

Castiel is still red in shame and is looking down at his hands, the table, the floor, anywhere but up. He is so embarrassed and doesn't know what to do any more.

"Hey," Dean reaches out and taps the table top gently to grab his attention. It works and Castiel slowly looks up at him. He almost melts into a puddle as he meets the soft assuring look that is thrown his way. Dean's intense green eyes seem to assure him in ways that he can't comprehend. "Just ignore Jenny. She says stuff without thinking all the time."

Castiel smiles back at the other man. The food is then served, this time by another waitress for which both are grateful. Castiel doesn't mean to, but he is so hungry that he practically inhales his eggs and bacon. After ten minutes, he is looking down at an empty plate and Dean whistles, "Damn, when was the last time you had a proper meal?"

Castiel's shrugs and answers, "Three-four days I think." Dean is slack-jawed at first, but then his eyes suddenly darken and he wordlessly pushes his stack of unfinished pancakes towards him. Castiel gratefully bites into those, relishing the sweet taste of syrup that he misses. It reminds him slightly of his brother, Gabriel who was always sucking on something sugary and sweet. But the more he thinks about him, the more painful those memories get so squashes them down.

"So," Dean says as he sips his cup of coffee. "We just lost two days but that's okay, we've still got more than enough time."

Castiel tilts his head in confusion. "Day three," Dean continues. "We'll start with you. Anything you wanna do before you die? Any special dream on your bucket list?"

Castiel slows down eating and shrugs. "Oh come on," Dean leans forward over the table. "Isn't there anything that you haven't done but wanna do?"

"Why don't you go first," Castiel counters. Dean shakes his head stubbornly. "Nope, it's only fair. I did help you, you know. So what I say goes. Now, hurry up! Think of something."

Castiel is quiet and doesn't say anything. "Last two months on earth," Dean emphasizes, "Have you really done everything you've ever wanted to do?"

Castiel squirms around, "I'm thinking," he replies.

Raising an eyebrow, Dean smirks. "Fine, take your time, _it's not like we're on a dateline or anything_."

Castiel suspects that it's sarcasm that's being directed at him but he' too busy thinking.

He's still thinking when they return back to the apartment, through the fire escape, still thinking as they have lunch together, and then dinner. He's still thinking as he lies in a heap of blankets on the couch while Dean snores in his room a few feet away. Finally, it hits him and it's another hour later that he manages to gather the courage to approach Dean.

"Dean," he hisses in the darkness, shaking the other man who is heavily sleeping. After a few more sharp jerks, he snorts suddenly awake.

"Cas, what the hell? Is everything okay?"

"I have figured out what I want to do."

"Well it's about damn time," Dean says, sitting up on his bed.

Castiel places himself just a few inches away from Dean. He is glad for the darkness that covers the both of them, so Dean doesn't know how much he is twitching, or the way he flushes as he bites his lips nervously. He is about to just say forget it and run out the room, the apartment to prevent him from the humiliation, but he didn't just spend an hour pep-talking himself for nothing. So he just takes a deep breath and says, "There is one thing I haven't done."

Dean looks at him for further information and Castiel thinks _this is it, there is no turning back now_. "I'm, well, I never, it's just... I'm a virgin." he finally blurts out.


	4. His V-Card

Castiel has his eyes closed after that mortifying confession.

" _What_?" Dean cries incredulously. Through his closed eyelids, Castiel can tell that Dean has scrambled to turn on the lamp at the bedside.

"I just... Never had an occasion okay?" he winces, slowly looking at the other man, blushing furiously. Dean is looking at him in disbelief, mouth hanging open.

"Let me get this straight, you're what, thirty? And you've never had sex?" Castiel nods.

"But _why_? It's not as if anyone would mind hooking up with you. I mean, you're pretty hot and-" Dean stops mid-sentence, as though his brain has finally caught up with his words. Castiel isn't the only one who's red in the face now.

"When my…" Castiel starts but then clears his throat.

"In high school, when I told my brothers that I was gay, they didn't take it too well. We had a very religious upbringing and my brother, Raphael was convinced that my lifestyle choice was disgraceful and that I was an abomination. He shipped me off to many different church camps, hoping to cleanse me. For a whole summer, Raphael ensured that none of my other siblings talked to me, so that I wouldn't taint them."

Dean's eyes have lost its glittering amusement but instead darken. "Raphael sounds like a bag of dicks," he chokes out angrily. "What about your parents?"

Castiel shrugs. "My mother died when I was very young. My father was very understanding of my situation and didn't approve of Raphael's decisions but he wasn't around long enough to stop him. He was a very busy man."

Dean is shaking his head disbelievingly. "But he's your _father,"_ he mutters.

Castiel doesn't know how to respond. Although it was true that Castiel's father did not spend much time with his children, it wasn't entirely his fault. The man had many duties to fulfill and he dedicated his life to helping the unfortunate in the developing countries. Nevertheless, Castiel never doubts even once that his father loved them very much. But how is he supposed to explain that to Dean? He understands that to outsiders, his father may seem like an uncaring absent father, but the truth is that the old man was just as loving as how any father would. They didn't see the way his father would never leave without hugging his sons goodbye, nor the way he would spend every waking moment with his family when he returned. But thinking about his father made something in his chest clench painfully and his eyes burn, so he decides to ignore that comment.

"I didn't ever want to go through something like that again so for years after that, I tried to convince myself that I was straight. But I wasn't, and I didn't dare date another man because I feared what my family would think of me. And that's why..."

Dean's looking at him with a look of disgust on his face and suddenly, Castiel is nervous and thinks that what he's just shared is worse than admitting his lack of sexual experience. "Does it bother you?" he asks hesitantly. "That I'm gay?"

Dean shakes his head again, but this time, furiously. "Of course not, man. And even if it bothered me, or anyone else, it shouldn't matter to you."

Castiel wants to say that of course what Dean thinks matters to him. He doesn't know how, but Dean has managed to get under his skin, and suddenly all Castiel is afraid of is losing this thing that they have between them. It's not just the fact that he's beautiful, but it's also the way he smiles warmly at him and knows just what to say that makes Castiel's insides glow and tingle. He is unable to stop this tirade of thoughts shifting through his head and is on the verge of voicing them out, but Dean's hands landing comfortingly on his holders render him speechless.

"Anyway, there's no way in hell that you'll die a virgin, not on my watch." Dean exclaims clapping a hand on his back. Castiel looks at him quizzically and the other man simply grins. "We'll start tomorrow. But for now, if you want to get laid, you would probably need your beauty sleep."

Castiel nods and walks out of the room . He can hear Dean switching off the lamp behind him and the apartment is enveloped in darkness once again. While Castiel is lying in bed, the butterflies in his stomach flutter nonstop. He doesn't know why, since this is his wish after all, he's nervous about tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, the two of them eat breakfast in the same diner. This time, Jenny the waitress is extremely friendly to Castiel, as though making up for the last time. While he is uncomfortable with the amount of attention he's receiving, Castiel is just glad that she's not flirting with Dean anymore; it makes it easier for him to swallow his food. After the both of them are full, Dean informs him that he has to go to work for just this week. He says he's already handed in his resignation letter but they still need for a few more days. Dean tells him that he'll be home early and that he wouldn't take long. Castiel simply shrugs and says that he has something to do this afternoon anyway.

The two men part ways; Dean making his way to work and Castiel walking a few blocks down the road. The shirt he is wearing is hanging off his slight frame and Dean's jeans are riding low on his hips. Castiel needs clothes that fit him, and he knows exactly where he can get them.

He walks further on until he reaches the block of expensive-looking condos. Castiel manages to sneak past the security guards who are sleeping or busy playing cards and slips into the elevator undetected.

He makes his way to his apartment without bumping into anyone and breaths a sight if relief. He stops short when he notices the gigantic padlock on the door and the multiple signs that say that the place now belongs to the bank. Cadtiel frowns but years of sneaking in and out of his bedroom window to hang out with his friends in highschool have come in handy and soon he finds himself inside.

Most of his furniture are already covered in white plastic sheets but at least his bedroom is still untouched. He throws in all of his clothes and belongings into a few duffle bags. In the last minute, he rumages through his desk and stuffs in his cellphone and the many newspaper clippings. Then as quickly as possible, he walks out.

At the lobby, Castiel's heart almost stops when he sees his brother near the entrance. Raphael looks tired, with the skin around his cheeks sunken, and eyes noticeably bloodshot even from where he's standing. He realizes then that he isn't the only one who'd been deeply affected by the news, the rest of his family were probably grieving too. Castiel's heart aches for them, to be with them and it takes most of his restraint not to simply run towards his brother whom he hadn't seen in weeks. Instead, he hides himself behind the walls in the corner and waits for his brother to walk into the elevator before rushing out himself.

* * *

In the evening, Dean comes home in a happy mood and tells him to get dressed. "C'mon, it's time to embark on our mission," he says, waggling his eyebrows.

Castiel wants to back out and tell him that the whole thing is ridiculous, but Dean seems just so excited about their whatever it is that he's planning for him, that he simply nods his head silently.

Dean says that they're going to a bar, but with that mischievous glint in his green eyes, Castiel is fairly certain that he means strip club. Nevertheless, Castiel puts on a pair of dark jeans and a simple white button down shirt which Dean pulls a face at. But he does nod in approval when Castiel picks out a blue tie.

"That tie really brings out the blue in your eyes," Dean remarks in an off-handed manner which still manages to make Castiel sputter and blush.

"Ready to go get em?" Dean asks with a grin as they walk out the apartment together. Castiel wants to turn the opposite direction and lock himself back into the safety of Dean's place.

* * *

"Baby, meet Cas. And Cas, you couldnt meet her last night because you were unconscious but this is Baby, probably the most important and beautiful girl in my life."

Castiel stares in confusion in the direction that Dean is gesturing. "Dean, that's just a car," he says flatly at the black vehicle parked under the street lamp. Castiel never cared much about cars or it's models so all he can tell by looking at it is that it's black and although well-maintained, looks rather old.

Dean turns to Castiel with a scandalized look. He walks towards his car. "Don't listen to him baby, he didn't mean it," he whispers, stroking the hood of the car. He glares at Castiel and scowls. "She is not just a car, she's a classic '67 chevy impala and unless you want to walk all the way to the bar on your own, you better apologize."

"Dean, I'm sorry. Your car is beautiful and I was an idiot. Please forgive me," Castiel deadpans.

Dean rolls his eyes and gestures to Castiel, telling him to get into the car. Once inside, Castiel is surprised. Unlike the messy apartment that was littered with rubbish in every nook and corner, the interior of the car is pristine and even smells of pine trees. The leather is soft and squeaky clean and Castiel feels comfortable here.

"So," Dean says. "We're going to this place, Angel And Demons. Its pretty cool 'cause apparently its for all kinds of people, straight, gay, bi...Anyway, it's basically the place fir you to use your V-card."

Castiel flushes and rubs the back of his neck. Dean gives off an exaggerated sigh, "Stop stressin' out. You're gonna have fun!"

* * *

"Dean, we shouldn't be here. It's a den of inequity."

As it turns out, Castiel was not, in fact, having fun. He was right, they are at a strip club and Dean wasn't lying when he'd said that the place is for all kind o people. From where he is standing, he can see all kinds men and women chatting each other up. It's crowded and the brush of sweaty bodies against him makes him wince and the flashing red lights are going make him go blind. There are both men and women on stage, gyrating to the offensive music and wearing so little that Castiel is tempted to walk over and drape his coat over one of them. This really isn't the kind of place for him, it seems more like Gabriel's thing, which again, is just too painful to talk about.

"Relax dude, you're all tensed up!" Dean exclaims beside him. He turns to the bartender and shouts for shots of tequila. "We've got to loosen you up," he explains as he hands Castiel shot after shot of string alcohol.

With every time that Castiel tilts his head back and takes a drink, Dean's eyes grow wider and wider. Pretty soon, there is a whole row of empty shots laid on the counter and even the bartender peers curiously from where he is standing, clearly impressed. After his fourteenth drink, Castiel feels a slight buzz under his skin. He looks over and nods at Dean, "I think I'm starting to feel something."

Dean is speechless at first, simply gaping at him doubtlessly. When he finally finds his tongue, he sounds awestruck. "Dude, that's amazing!" he shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you feel better now?"

Cas frowns. The alcohol has definitely done something, made his mind fuzzier but the butterflies in his stomach are flying more erratically and he feels nauseas.

"Oh, loosen up will you? With an expression like that, no ones gonna approach you. Here," Dean reaches out and loosens the blue tie that is now hanging limp around his neck. He then grabs Castiel's cuffs and unbuttons them, rolling up the sleeves until they reach his elbows. It's when Dean's fingers trail over the sensitive skin of his neck as the other man undoes the first two buttons of his shirt that Castiel shivers. His stomach twists and turns in knots and he doesn't know whether to lean into the touch or jerk away before he does anything stupid.

"There," Dean leans back, satisfied. "Now, I'm going to take a quick trip to the bathroom and while I'm gone, I want you to flirt with some of these guys here, you know, warm yourself up."

Castiel's face takes on a look of pure terror as he sees the retreating back of his friend. He's left alone now and he feels irrationally very very afraid. He can see a few interested looks thrown his direction and while it's doing wonderful things to his self-esteem, he still doesn't know what to do. So takes a deep breath and keeps his head down, thinking that if he doesn't see them, they can't see him. He starts to pray for Dean's quick arrival, before he runs into trouble.

From the corner of his eye, he sees a man approaching slowly and immediately, his back stiffens. The man is built like a line backer, with muscles bulging out his shirt and big frame towering over Castiel.

"Hey," the man smirks at him.

Castiel gulps down air and keeps looking down. He jumps in surprise and slight disgust when he feels an unwanted hand snaking up his back. He tries to shrug it away and recoils when the man leans in further and whispers uncomfortably, "What's your name, baby?"

Castiel shifts uncomfortably and inches slowly away from the man, but then he remembers what Dean had told him; to try flirting with someone. So, hesitantly, he stutters, "I-it's C-Castiel ."

"Cas?" the man leers predatorily at him, exposing a set of gleaming teeth that shine in the darkness of the club. "What say you and I get a room in the back, Cas?"

Suddenly, the man's meaty fists are gripping Castiel's hips so tightly to the point that it hurts and the man's face is only inches away from Castiel's. This feels nothing like the way things are with Dean. When Dean is standing close to him, goose-bumps appear on his arms and Castiel has to struggle not simply throw himself into those strong tan arms, but now, Castiel is feeling clammy where hands are pressing down on his waist and disgust, instead of content bubbles inside of him.

"He said his name is _Castiel_ , asshat, and clearly he's not interested."

Castiel looks up in relief to find out that the low, menacing growl belongs to Dean, who is standing behind him, hands fisted at his sides and feet apart in a stance that clearly shows that he's ready to lay a blow if things get out of hand. There is a dangerous glint to his green eyes which the other man must have seen, as he shakes his head with a scowl, muttering while hastily backing away. Dean storms over to Castiel's side and remains glaring at the other man until he disappear.

"Dammit, Cas! I told you to flirt, not get raped!" Castiel's heart is too busy steadying itself that he doesn't bother replying. Castiel wonders when he'd started letting Dean call him Cas but he figures that he doesn't mind it. Dean doesn't say the way his father did, with booming authority that immediately commanded respect, but instead, in a rather more affectionate teasing tone. Dean almost makes it sound like an entirely new word and Castiel is okay with that. It doesn't remind him painfully of his father but brings a sort of bittersweet memory that washes him in nostalgia.

"...and that assface is totally not your type anyway."

Castiel furrows his eyebrows at Dean's words. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well, for one, you can tell he's a moron just by looking at his face," Dean scoffs. "And for another, your first time should be with someone who's... I don't know, gentler?"

Both men are turning red in embarrassment by the time Dean is done speaking and for a while, nobody says anything.

"You know what?" Dean says suddenly. "I think I've got an awesome idea."

Despite Castiel's protest and numerous questions, Dean grabs his forearm and drags him through the crowd of people till they reach a back. There are dozens of rooms there, with women and men alike posing and appraising whoever approaches them. "Dean," Castiel tugs at the shoulder of the other man but Dean silences him with a look.

"Here," he passes him a wad of notes. "Just go with the usual stuff and if he asks for a credit card, say no." Before Castiel can even comprehend what is going on, Dean pushes him into the arms of one of the shirtless men dressed in tight jeans. Castiel only realizes that he's in the arms of a _prostitute_ when Dean gives him a wink.

"Have fun!" Before Castiel is able to hide behind Dean, his friend is gone, scurrying off to another dark corner of the room.

Castiel looks up to see the smirking brown eyes of the other man and he can already feel his heart clawing out of his chest...


	5. Dean's Turn

Fifteen minutes later, Castiel stumbles out of the club and to his surprise, sees Dean leaning against the hood of the Impala, casually drinking from a bottle. He is still flushed with embarrassment and walks towards him with his head bent down. Dean doesn't notice him until Castiel is practically right next to him and when he does, he looks equal parts surprised and confused.

"That was fast?" Dean asks.

Castiel shrugs and says, "I couldn't do it." He's a little apologetic about the whole thing; after all, Dean did go through so much trouble to get him a guy, only for Castiel to suddenly get cold feet and run for the hills.

But Dean doesn't seem to get what that means because he looks around and asks rather hesitantly, "Is it like a medical condition, or..."

At first Castel doesn't understand where Dean is coming from but then realization dawn on him, along with feelings of mortification. "No!" he all but cries out, shaking his head hard. "It's not... performance issues."

The two of them wince as the conversation goes for a more awkward turn. "It just that I could not do it with someone I paid for, nor someone I hardly know."

Dean takes another gulp of his drink from the bottle. He looks thoughtful before he says slowly, "So, what you're saying is that, you want to fall in love before you die?"

Castiel knows that sounds ridiculous, like one of those romantic comedies that Anna used to watch; 'Looking For Love Before I Die' or something equally cheesy. If he wasn't the one who was feeling that way, Castiel would have scoffed at such a sentimental notion.

Sure enough though, Dean is looking at him with a large grin on his face, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Aww, is Cassy looking for some _lurve_?"

Castiel rolls his eyes at that. He slides beside Dean to join him while leaning on the car and bumps their shoulders rather playfully. Dean chuckles and hands him a drink. The bottle is still cold and Castiel rolls it around his palms.

"No offense, Cas. But couldn't you have picked an easier wish? I mean, if you couldn't fall in love in thirty years, how are you gonna do that in two months."

Castiel doesn't bother replying, because he already knows how stupid his wish was to begin with. Instead, he continues to pick on the paper label on the glass bottle. "How about you?" he dares to ask. "Have you ever fallen in love?"

Dean eyes darken a little, and Castiel is able to see that even in the dim lighting of the street lamps far away. He thinks that maybe he's touched a nerve, over-stepped a boundary. He is about to apologize and take his words back, but he's interrupted by Dean.

"Yeah, I did." Dean whispers roughly. "But I guess not everyone gets a happy ending."

After that, silence stretches on for quite some time. Castiel doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything at all. He does, however, goes back into the club and returns with four more bottles of their strongest whisky.

They end up drinking until Castiel is convinced that he's grown two extra arms and Dean has started to belt out the lyrics to AC/DC in the empty parking lot. They agree then that it's probably time to head home. Castiel is about to get into the car when Dean stops him.

"C'mon, we're walking. I don't drink and drive," he explains.

They stumble along the streets, arms around each other's shoulders and Castiel is feeling completely content. He lets out a giggle, and is surprised at how he sounds. As far as he can remember, he's never done that before, which just goes to show how pathetic and as his life is.

Because of how drunk he is, Castiel gets a little bit braver and more daring.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"How many times have you fallen in love?" he asks.

"Twice," Dean replies and maybe it's because he's a little more dunk that he's willing to part with more information.

"The first time was with Lisa. That was in high school and we never thought it would last. And then I ended up marrying her and I was happy. The second time was my son, Ben. When he was born, I couldn't take my eyes off of him for even a second. He was just so beautiful."

Castiel almost sobers up instantly, getting whiplash from that sudden new information about Dean. Dean is quiet, like maybe he's realized that he'd revealed too much. He doesn't look at Castiel, while Castiel's eyes snap to Dean's left hand. He doesn't see any wedding ring at all though, which makes everything more puzzling. Castiel's mind is still reeling from an image of a miniature Dean driving a toy car when he's interrupted from his thoughts.

"Hey Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"Why were you on that bridge last night?"

Castiel panics for a moment but breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees that they've already reached the apartment.

"We're home," he replies, and busies himself trying to pull the fire escape ladder down.

* * *

The next morning, Castiel wakes up with a really bad headache that worsens with every sound he hears, so he quickly grabs some aspirin and fixes himself a greasy breakfast. He leaves some for Dean, who's still sleeping as soundly as the dead. Castiel looks around at the messy apartment and decides that it's time he gets to work.

An hour later, as he plugs in the vacuum cleaner, Castiel is sure he can hear Dean snort awake and groan in frustration in the next room. Seconds later, Dean storms out into the living room and glares at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning."

Desn rolls his eyes and crosses his arm against his chest. "Can't you do it quieter?"

"My apologies," Castiel says drily. He looks up from his vacuuming when he hears Dean give a gasp of surprise.

"Where'd this other couch come from?" he demands.

This time it was Castiel's turn to roll his eyes. "Dean, it's always been here, just buried under your pile of take-out boxes and dirty laundry, which I have already washed and folded."

"Well aren't you the perfect wife," Dean grumbles sarcastically. "Maybe I should've married you instead. You even made breakfast!"

Castiel blushes slightly at the image of the two of them married, and despairs slightly at how easy it is for him to actually warm up to the idea. It frightened him that he's grown so fond of the man he hardly know but who's also saved his life from those goons in the alley. Castiel doesn't know what to make of his feelings, so he ignores them and instead, focuses on getting rid of the dust bunnies under the couch.

Once he's done, Castiel makes his way to the kitchen where Dean is scarfing down his food like a bull dog. Bits of eggs and sausages are flying all over the counter and Castiel makes a sound of disgust. "I just wiped the counter."

Dean smiles at him, teeth bared and mouth stuffed with food. "Hey, it's your turn to ask me."

"Ask you what?" Castiel asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. "What my first wish is."

Castiel sighs and asks him exactly that. This time, the grin that Dean gives him is equal parts mischief and evil. Suddenly, Castiel isn't so sure he wants to know what Dean's wish is. "I don't know why, but I'm really scared to know what you're planning."

Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks. "I want to go swimming in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean!"

Yes, Castiel is feeling terrified now.


	6. To Swim/Sink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, hey guys! Sorry for the long break, but now I'm back with another hit of inspiration. This chapter is unbetaed, so all mistakes are completely mine.
> 
> NEways, hope you guys find this chapter Enjoyable and don't forget to leave a review!

At first, Castiel thinks Dean is joking; after all, it was such a ridiculous request. So he laughs, which then progressively turn nervous and hysterical when Dean says he's completely serious.

"That's crazy, and suicidal too!" he says.

"And that's a bad thing because?" asks Dean. "Besides, even if we do happen to die, that's good, right? Two birds and one stone…"

Castiel is still staring at Dean in shock, who seems nonchalant. "I'm not doing it," Castiel argues, shaking his head stubbornly. "It's childish and stupid."

"Hey! Like yours was so well thought out!"

"It's not like my wish was fulfilled anyway."

"Relax," Dean says, holding his hands out in a placating manner. "We'll get to that soon enough. We can't just force that. But this, this is an easy enough wish."

"Then _you_ do it alone." Castiel almost snaps at the absurdity of his insistence. "But I'm not doing it with you. No matter what you say or do will not make me change my mind otherwise."

* * *

Castiel supposes that the saying is true; Men can never say no to a pretty face. Even if said pretty face belongs to a man, with admittedly gorgeous and captivating eyes.

So that's how he finds himself burning his skin in the sun on top of a big speed boat, hair being messed up by the strong sea breeze. They've been at sea for a while now, Dean insisting that they float off as far as possible. Castiel has to admit that it's relaxing out here, getting used to the steady rhythm of the bobbing up and down of the waves. They had sandwiches for lunch, and are now lazily sitting back, knocking down a few bottles of beer.

"Don't drink too much, you don't want to be drunk at sea," Castiel warns.

Dean agrees while finishing his bottle. He rolls it between his palms, the glass slippery and lukewarm. Suddenly, he sits up with wide eyes. "You know what we should do?"

Castiel eyes him in uncertainty and weariness. Dean doesn't say anything but takes out a pen and a slip of paper from his bag. "I've always wanted to leave some sort of message in a bottle," he explains.

"Oh, no," Castiel shakes his head. He snatches the bottle away, out of Dean's reach. "You're not going to pollute the waters here; I'm not going to let you."

He rummages through their bag of litter and finds what he's been looking for. "Here, use this instead."

"I'm not using a milk carton!" Dean screeches incredulously.

"Yes, I know it's still litter, but at least it's biodegradable."

"Exactly!" Dean points out. "The message is supposed to last forever."

They bicker for a while, Dean finally relenting only because Castiel threatens to throw him overboard and leave in the boat. Straightening the crumpled piece of paper, Dean scrawls out,

_DEAN AND CAS WERE HERE._

"That's an extremely stupid message," Castiel observes. At Dean's insulted face, he quickly says, "But it's not like anyone's going to read it."

"Someone might find this," Dean insists. "Hey, there's also a chance we might even find it again."

"That's highly unlikely, if not impossible."

"Fine!" Dean cries out and adds more onto the message.

_AND IF DEAN AND CAS FIND THIS AGAIN, CAS WILL HAVE TO AGREE TO WHATEVER DEAN DEMANDS._

Castiel rolls his eyes at the other man's childishness. "That's never going to happen."

At Dean's insistence, they sign of with their names and fold the paper. Stuffing it into the carton and scribbling their names on the exterior, he flings it out into the sea, with the breeze carrying it far away.

"Great," Dean claps his hands. "Now that that's done, and we've had our lunch, let's go swimming." Immediately, Castiel's stomach lurches and he feels queasy all over again.

"Hey Cas, where's the bag with all our swimming trunks?" Dean asks over his shoulder as he looks around the small boat. Castiel cringes and bites his lips nervously.

"Oh, I think I left it back at the jetty. I apologize," Castiel hopes that the fake apologetic expression is enough to fool Dean.

"What?" Dean cries out, crestfallen. "But we already came all the way here!"

"Well, I supposed we have to turn around now. We'll swim another day." Castiel quickly gathers their bags together and prepares to drive the boat back into the shore. It's when he turns his back, that he hears a loud splash from behind him. The sound makes his stomach churn in dread as he quickly looks down at the water.

Dean is struggling and crying out, flailing arms making huge waves around him. "Cas!" he spits out.

Castiel is at loss on what to do. He wants to just jump in and save him, but he can't. He hears his cries for help and it makes him feel even more helpless. Panic has started to crawl its way into his chest and he wrings his hands in despair. There's no life buoy in sight, Dean was too much in a hurry for them to load any onto the boat.

The more time Castiel wastes; it seems that Dean stays under water a little longer. He can't let that happen, can't let Dean die, because then, he'd be all alone. So despite his better judgment, Castiel grips the ledge of the boat tightly. He takes in a deep breath and jumps into the sea, bracing himself for the cold slap of water onto his face.

He feels like he's under a block of ice. His arms and legs feel heavy and instinctively, he simply waves them around, lacking any technique. He doesn't know how to swim, never had anyone to teach him. His siblings avoided him like the plague and Father was just too busy to take time off for anything as silly as that. He didn't think it was that important a skill, until know.

His head has been underwater long enough, and he craves fresh air. His lungs are burning but when he tries to push to the surface, all he gets is deeper under the water. He worries for Dean, because surely he's dead by now. Castiel hates himself for being so useless once again and letting down just another person in his life.

Suddenly, there's a tight grip around his chest and broad arms are pushing him up. When his head breaks to the surface of the water, Castiel gasps desperately for air.

"Cas! You okay?" Dean holds him tightly and shakes him a little. Concern is laced in his voice, with a hint of wild panic. It makes Castiel feel all kinds of things, but he simply pushes his emotions deep down and tries his best to ignore them; No point bringing them up when all it could do is make things even more complicated.

"Yes," he croaks out, throat feeling raw.

"Christ, Cas," Dean yells "What kind of a thirty-year old man doesn't know how to swim?"

Castiel is still gasping loudly as water dribbles out of his mouth. "I can't believe you were faking." He argues back.

"And I can't believe you left our bags at the jetty on purpose for this!" Dean exclaims.

They stay in that position for a while, bobbing up and down with the strong waves of the sea. Castiel is struggling to catch his breath, but his heart is still pumping wildly at the close proximity he's sharing with Dean. Dean has his arms wrapped around his middle, and Castiel is holding tightly onto his shoulders. Their chests are almost pressed together, face inches apart. Castiel feels warm even in the frigid cold of November.

"I think we should get back to the boat before you drown again," Dean jokes, although his voice is still low enough not to break the spell. Castiel nods in agreement, too captured by mossy greens to protest at the jibe sent his way.

When Dean turns around, his eyes suddenly narrow in panic. "Son of a bitch!" he swears loudly." Castiel follows his line of sight and agrees with Dean completely.

Because, there is the far distance, bobbing merrily in the sea, is their boat, far from reach, _way_ far.

"Shitshitshit," Dean growls, and even though it seems futile, he sprints through the water, trying his best to get to the boat. But the waves are too strong, and the boat has already traveled too far. In his hurry, Dean had his hands off of Castiel and with no one there to hold him, Castiel feels the fear crawling up his spine. He flails wildly, trying to stay afloat, but he feels heavier and heavier with each stroke of his arms. "Dean!" he gasps out.

Dean swims back in a hurry, face set in an exasperated expression. His arms resume position around Castiel's middle, and Castiel supports himself by clinging onto broad, tan shoulders.

"What am I going to do?" Dean rolls his eyes. "I've got an armful of a thirty-something old man who can't swim, and no way of going back to shore. _Thanks a lot, Cas_. Just how I pictured the day."

Castiel makes sure to accidentally kick Dean's shins as they floated together in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been such a long time since I've last updated! But I was facing a rough case of writer's block and didn't want to continue until I got my muse back on track! So here's a (rather short, but thick) chapter! Also, this chapter has no beta, so all mistakes are mine!

"This is all your fault," Dean grumbles, for what must be the hundredth time.

Castiel doesn't say anything, but he shoots the man a dangerous look, which Dean ignores. "You could've told me you didn't know how to swim _but no_ ; you had to go all superhero and jump in the water..." Dean carries on muttering under his breath.

"You were the one who pretended to drown!" Castiel snaps back, childishly splashing water at his face.

"I'd be acting more apologetic if I were you, especially to the person keeping you from sinking."

"Oh wow, what a true hero you are Dean. What would I do without you? Hmm, _maybe I'd be at home warm and dry instead of floating in the middle of the sea, cold and wet!"_

"You were the one who couldn't even anchor the boat-"

"Only because I was too busy saving you-"

"Yeah what a fantastic job you did-"

"Yeah, I should've just left you for the sharks-"

"This is all your fault, Cas!"

"What was that Dean, mind repeating that again? I don't think I caught it _the first few hundred times_."

There's silence as Dean glares at Castiel who is unfazed and returns the look in equal intensity. They don't talk for a while when Dean speaks again uncertainly;"Hey Cas, why were you on that bridge that night?"  
  
Castiel stiffens, the question catching him unaware. He doesn't know how to dodge it this time, and flails momentarily for a way out. Dean sighs, breath ghosting on his bare skin. "It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it, I'm sorry for asking you."  
  
"It is alright."

Castiel can't help but think that the reason Dean keeps asking him such questions is that he's looking for an opportunity to share his story; to have some one listen to him. He's curious too, about the other man, so he asks, "What about you?" 

 

Its as though a large weight has been lifted off of Dean's shoulder, as he takes in a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh, you know, the usual, cheating wives and such."

 

Castiel frowns. He can't possibly understand why anyone would be dumb enough to let Dean go, when they were so lucky to have him in the first place. "I'm sorry," he says, because he can't think of any other way to respond. He waits for a further explanation, because that doesn't seem to be the whole story.

 

"Lisa and I had been together since high school, and no one was surprised when we eventually got married," Dean elaborates. "We were happy. Well _I though_ t we were happy anyway. But after a while, things changed, and we were drifting apart; there was nothing I could do to stop it. Then Ben was born, and I thought that things were getting better, Lisa seemed happier." Dean's eyes darken, with sorrow and anger, mixed into an emotion that Castiel thinks he can understand.

 

"What happened?" he asks.

 

" I came home early one day from work to find Lisa making out with  _my brother_. I thought it was a one time thing, you know. But then Lisa told me that it had been going on for a very long time, _years_ in fact. And if that wasn't enough to destroy, I soon found out that Ben wasn't even mine." Dean shakes his head, and Castiel can see a tear escaping from his eyes, running down his upturned lips. "I could've lived if I'd only lost my wife, but I also lost my son. My brother stole them from me, and now I've got no one."

 

Dean crumbles before Castiel's very eyes. There is no other way to describe how his shoulders have drooped, or the way his head hangs low, as though to hide his tears. Castiel feels anger thrumming in his veins, fury at the wife who betrayed Dean. and at the brother for casing Dean such pain. Castiel winds his arms tightly around Dean's waist and squeezes. It hardly counts as a hug, with both of them floating awkwardly in the water, but Dean rests his head on Castiel's shoulder anyway, and mumbles a thank you so soft, Castiel almost thinks he it didn't happen.

 

That's how the guard on patrol finds them, two men with their limbs tangled around each other, holding on as though the other man were a life saver. The guard quickly pulls them onto his speed boat, all the while admonishing them for their carelessness and stupidity. Dean doesn't talk back, or makes a smart-ass comment, which is how Castiel knows fro sure that something is wrong. The light in Dean's emerald eyes have extinguished, and throughout the journey back to land, Castiel desperately thinks of a way to get them to light up again.

 

* * *

 

Dinner that night is a quiet affair, with Castiel trying hard to initiate a conversation. Dean mumbles back one-word answers and soon, its just silence. Castiel wonders how he could have possibly thouht that getting Dean to open up would be a great idea. It seems that all it did open, was the gates to his long-suppressed grief.  He doesn't know what to do, how to fix this. Instead, he hopes that a good night's sleep is enough to chase away the dark cloud that seems to be hovering over Dean.

 

Castiel should've seen it coming, when late that nigh, he wakes up to see the bed empty. He should've known what was coming, as his heart races and pulse quickens while he slams his shoulders against the bathroom door to break it down. He blames himself for not recognizing the signs as he clutches the lifeless body of Dean on the bathroom floor with and empty bottle of pills rolling innocently beside them.

 

"Dean!" he shouts, shaking the unconscious man, almost as hard as how his heart is beating right now. Hoping against hope, he slaps him hard across the face, praying that it would rouse him. A tensed few seconds later, Dean's eyes flutter open, and he mumbles incoherently. Castiel wants to scream in joy, but instead, he frantically asks, "How many did you take?"

 

Dean smiles bitterly at him, "Not enough," he croaks.

 

* * *

Castiel decides right there and then, that he's not going to let Dean die. Not now, not in twom months, not ever. He doesn't care about the pact any more. Instead, he makes a new one with himself; a pact to make Dean  _live._  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing against canon Sam at all! I absolutely love him, but for this part of the plot to work, and to have Dean completely destroyed, it has to be Sam to do such a thing. So, sorry, Sam!

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Horselover97
> 
> I'd really like to thank my beta, Horselover97 for helping me out with all them grammar mistakes. Any other resulting errors are however, mine. I've based this fanfiction off of a movie I'd watched some time ago. I can't really remember the title and its not in English, so its harder to find. If any of you do know what the name of the movie is, do leave a PM alright? Thanks :)


End file.
